


He grabs me, he has me by my heart

by Realm



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dom/sub, Edgeplay, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Porn, basically formatted like an anonymous pornhub video ok, really really avid descriptions of hand jobs and orgasms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 08:06:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12790329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Realm/pseuds/Realm
Summary: it was one of the most watched videos on PornHub gay, well over a million views. It was only around 20 minutes long, and the scene barely changed throughout, but it was one of the top rated amateur videos, under the categoriesedging, hunk, hung, orgasm denialandhandjob.





	He grabs me, he has me by my heart

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if this is confusing to read bc its really difficult to write two men without saying their names, so ... yah  
> o also, inspired by a [real pornhub video](https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph5609835e6c98e&t=426). watch at your own discretion. it's really gorgeous tho.
> 
> OH ALSOOo i wrote this one hundred percent as sub steve, but honestly i dont use names and dont describe the people THAt much so i suppose u could imagine it the other way around!

it was one of the most viewed videos on PornHub gay, well over a million views. It was only around 20 minutes long, and the scene barely changed throughout, but it was one of the top rated amateur videos, under the categories _edging, hunk, hung, orgasm denial_ and _handjob_.

It began with the frame focusing on a large, lean man, neck down, stripped bare and sitting on a chair with his legs splayed out. His arms were behind him, bulging biceps pressed to the sides of his chest, and it was safe to assume his wrists were tied together securely behind his back. The angle was set so that he took up most of the frame, and it wasn’t for nothing. The man had a gorgeous body, lean and muscled with large pecs, tiny pink nipples, a sculpted stomach and a thick, arching cock that matched his physique in size. It was ruddy red and shining wetly, and the man looked unable to stay still, hips shifting and thick thighs rippling as his chest heaved. His skin was a creamy white, flushed red down his chest which shone with sweat. Just the body in the thumbnail was enough to lure the majority of viewers in instantly. 

It was easy to tell that the video began part way through, enough that the man was desperate for it but not wanton, not yet. Another man, clothed in jeans and a white shirt, mostly out of the frame, was running a hand over the body in front of him. The touch was enough to make the man’s chest heave with breaths, arching into it, and one leg jolted up before bouncing back down again, a desperate response. It was obvious that the man was sensitive, eager, but not in the fake way you would find in many other videos. There was something achingly hot and authentic about the way his body moved into the touch almost subconsciously, like he was so in his own head that he lost control of his muscles for seconds at a time, forgot how big he was, forgot his own body. 

The other man wasted no time, his hand moving out of the frame before returning shiny and slick, replacing the drying lube on it from before. He slotted his clothed knee next to the naked man’s, and the other moaned brokenly, maybe from the rough cloth against his oversensitive skin. Soft, murmured reassurances could be heard coming from the man in control, low enough that the voice wasn’t recognizable, to the dismay of many commenters, but some words could be heard in snippets.

“Shhh, sweetheart…. look’it you, I know…. poor thing…” 

The other man’s cries drowned out the rest of the words, but he kept speaking lowly, like calming a wild animal, running a slick hand gently over the other’s chest and smooth stomach, soothing him when the man sobbed and groaned louder, animalistic, in response. The man wasn’t even moaning, really, just letting out panting breaths that released in high pitched sobs and whimpers on the exhale. His abdomen muscles could be seen jumping and twitching under the path of the fingers, arching into them before falling back down. 

Someone had obviously gotten a hand on his cock before, and it was a shiny reddish purple, curved towards his belly button and leaking precum steadily into his happy trail. He leaked profusely, drooling out liquid with every jerk of his dick, as many in the comments mentioned in awe. The poor cock looked neglected now, balls tight and as pretty as the rest of his body, and it twitched as the other man finally wrapped a cool, slick hand around it.

The bound man let out a broken cry, hunching over painfully as his muscles tensed, straining against the chair. He gave in after several seconds and fell bonelessly back, inhaling wetly through his teeth with a hiccup, and let his head fall back with a thud against the chair. He whimpered again, quietly, as the other man stay still, watching his reactions carefully and leaving his hand loosely wrapped around his cock, waiting for him to calm down. Quiet reassurances could be heard, but they were too soft to understand, meant only for the man in the chair.

The bound man spoke as his angled chin fell into frame, hitting his chest as he looked down at himself. His swollen, rosy red lips could be seen whispering a strangled “Oh, God.”

The other man didn’t interrupt his gentle stream of words as his hand slowly, ever so slowly began moving up and down on his cock, stroking with velvet soft fingers that squelched with lube. The bound man let out an ‘oh,’ almost breathlessly, and then another one, higher and louder in pitch. “Oh-” He cried out, leg jerking helplessly, and his throat was bared again as his head tipped back. 

The other man was relentless, firming his grip slightly but keeping his rhythm slow and overpowering, pressing his body more forward so the two were touching at the knee. 

He twisted his hand gently, scraping his palm over the crown of his cock. Ignoring the other’s gasping sounds of distress, the man cupped his hand again, at the head this time, squeezing lightly and pulling upwards, milking another drop of precum from the slit. He ran his thumb through the liquid, spreading it around and getting it messy with the precum and lube already there. A genuine sob ripped out of the bound man, ending in a whimpering cry, desperate sounds like a hurt dog escaping him on every breath. If the camera were to tilt up right now, it would no doubt show his eyes glistening with tears. 

The other man didn’t stop, didn’t let up, only made a soothing noise as he moved his hand again, thumb finding its way under the head of his cock, the rest of his fingers a loose ring while he applied pressure with his thumb, milking the same way he had before. Precum spurted out of the slit once, then again, drooling gently. He ran his first couple fingers through it, spreading his fingers to show the sticky liquid between them, then rubbed it down the shaft. 

The man jerked, let out a low moan, the muscles in his thighs and abdomen twitching and shivering. He gasped as the other began rhythmically stroking, less of a jerk and more of a deep, strangling pull starting at the base and ending at the crown, wringing precum from his cock.

This continued, over and over, while more liquid drenched his stomach and hair below his bellybutton, leaking down onto the base of his dick. The man took heaving, wet inhales, holding his breath, and when the hand squeezed down right below the head he would let out a tearing, wracking groan, half breathless.

The other man finally transitioned from milking to smooth, slow jacking, stroking from base to tip with a soft hand, keeping it gentle and twisting his wrist just a bit towards the top to make the bound man jerk. This was less stimulating in a sense, but more teasing— it was what he wanted, but not enough. He was reduced to shaking in minutes as the hand on his cock stayed slow and rhythmic, never speeding up, never giving him what he needed.

He couldn’t stop himself from arching up off the chair after one particularly mean twist at the skin under the head, hips jerking off the seat into the fist as his chest arched, biceps bulging and twisting against his restraints. The other man kept punishingly stroking, never sped up or took his hand off, just rode with the movement and stayed silent, and that was maybe worse, that he didn’t resist enough for the bound man to fuck into his hand, didn’t let up enough to bring him off the edge, just kept jerking him through it. He cried out, genuinely cried at the edge of a scream, breathless and animalistic from deep in his throat. The other didn’t respond, didn’t stop, and the bound man whimpered out in a surprisingly soft contrast to the noise he had just made, breathlessly,  
“please, sir, can I come?”

Then, louder, more broken on a gasp as the man moved his hand, wrapping loosely around the bottom of the shaft so the heel of his palm was pressing into his balls, “ _Please_ sir, can I come-“

The man didn’t answer, only sent the other a look, and twisted his hand, thumb and fingers circling the base of his dick while his palm scraped against the sensitive skin of his balls, wet and rough. He stroked upwards, then turned his hand when he got to the head so it was upside down and fucked it back down, like a fleshlight, and rubbed his thumb soothingly along the shaft. The bound man groaned, close-mouthed, chin on his chest again as he watched, hands twisting in his restraints and knees bobbing nonsensically.

The other pulled back up and then stroked down again, only moving about halfway down the shaft before coming back up, jerking him rougher and faster than before. Ignoring the man’s cries, he continued his ministrations, elbow up as he fucked his hand down, pushing at the tight skin and the swollen glans. The bound man’s hips were bunching forward, thighs shaking, while his arms locked against the chair and his chin pressed against his shoulder, wincing away from the touch, unable to look at what was being done to him.

He whispered over and over, “please sir, can I come, please can I come, sir please,” back arching and bowed angrily at random until he realized what he was doing and forcibly shoved his back against the chair again.

This continued for several minutes as the other man switched between jerking him off with his hand upside down in an O shape and the other way around, starting low at his balls. The cries grew in pitch and desperation and the man was jerking more erratically now, body less in control, even having to whisper to himself ‘don’t move, don’t move’ to remind him. Finally, with one heaving, choked off cry and the man’s ass slamming back against the chair in an aborted attempt to escape the touch, the clothed man released his cock completely, slick hand resting on his own clothed knee, and said, “You can’t come.”

It was almost as if not being touched was worse. The bound man cried out, keened, hips bucking up, cock slapping against his stomach. His feet scrambled against the floor as he sat back roughly, head thrashing from side to side, moan cut off suddenly as he whimpered out, “Oh, oh-“ He twisted in his seat, arms straining against the bonds, hips turning. One leg made an aborted jerking motion towards him, probably meant to curl up so he could rub off onto his thigh, before he dropped it at the last second and splayed his legs wide open, thigh muscles twitching. His chest rose with gasping breaths of air, every exhale accompanied by a low whimper.

Then it started over again. The clothed man waited for the other to calm down slightly, just enough so he was no longer on the edge, then began again, stroking him painfully slow, unforgiving. Kept his hand slick, twisting his wrist in all the right places, speeding up ever so slightly and alternating grips. He shushed the bound man beneath him, kept him calm and reassured, but the other thrashed under the assault, bucking his hips as his feet scrabbled on the floor. The hand on his cock didn't stop or speed up, just rode with the movements, stroking him relentlessly through it. He would pant, gasping and shaking as he got closer to the edge, sometimes begging for release, but right when it got to be too much it would stop. The other man waited, let him calm down, then started again from the beginning. 

It was around the 18 minute mark when he let go again, and the bound man sobbed, being denied once more. It looked even more painful this time, his cock an angry purple, balls drawn up tight towards his body, thigh muscles quivering. He was taking sharp, fast breaths, cock bobbing in time with his chest rising up and down rapidly.

The other man put a slick hand on his breastbone, reassuringly, shushing and urging him to breathe. He only responded with more desperation to the feeling of contact on his heated skin. He simultaneously arched into it while a cry ripped its way out of his throat as if he’d been burned, but after the man repeated his words a couple times, he seemed to get it, obediently taking gasping breaths that did little to calm him down. His knees were shaking, spread wide open, jerking with small movements as he jiggled his legs anxiously in an unconscious response to the feeling shooting through his cock throughout his whole body. He no longer begged, pushed past the point of speaking; instead whimpered and moaned pitifully from high in his chest, head lolling back and forth.

The other man moved to rub a hand up and down his shivering biceps in a soothing gesture, thumb sweeping back and forth. Then, he spoke, deeply, quietly. “D’you wanna come?”

The bound man gasped wetly, his voice breaking and loud as if he couldn’t hear himself anymore. He slurred, “Yeah, please, yeah, sir, oh please, sir sir sir-“

“What if I don’t want you to?” The hand was back on his cock, stroking gently now. “What if I leave you here, real desperate all tied up like a present for me, ’n I don’t let you come? Make you stay aching for me all day.. Maybe all week?” 

At this point the man groaned, animalistic, a deep, desperate sound, and arched against his bonds, muscles rippling with it, the chair creaking ominously behind him.

“Proper answer or you get a lash.”

The man gave in, muscles jolting in response to the hand jerking his cock. His breath was coming in pants. He scrambled to reply, “You- you know best, sir, anything you want, sir-“

The other hummed approvingly. “Good boy.” He let go of his cock, sat back, and said, “Come now.”

It was as if a switch had been flicked. The bound man arched against his seat, back bowed, taut like a bow string. An angry, gritted moan pushed out of him as his dick spurted, once, and then gave way to a series of wanton, wet, painful whimpers as he continued to come. He thrashed in his chair like he was being tortured, humped his hips into the air desperately, stunned into silence. His muscles were pulled too tight for him to let out any sounds, entire body shaking with tension. Another spurt of spunk shot out of his dick, landing on his chest, and a groan ripped its way out of him like he’d been shot.

All the while, the clothed man stroked his knee, spoke to him in soft tones, urging him to let go, give in to it. He pulled in a heaving breath, shaking as he continued to come silently, arms shivering from overexertion, cock pulsing. It kept going, on and on, and the man curled in on himself as if the orgasm was so intense his body literally could not hold it. His abdomen muscles bunched, his chest shook as he tensed too hard to breathe.

He kept coming.

After a minute, the man let out a surprisingly weak whimper, wet and pitiful as his cock continued to shoot cum, his belly and chest and thighs drenched with spunk. The clothed man leaned in and took his cock very gently in hand, milking the last drops of seed from it as the other moaned softly. His orgasm was still going, head propped against his chest. Tears could be seen leaking down his collarbone. The man swallowed audibly, hips pressing back as his orgasm slowly, finally subsided, meekly trying to escape the touch on his oversensitive cock. “Sir-“

The clothed man let go mercifully, instead trailing his hand through the mess on his stomach as the other finally relaxed, sinking in on himself, still shaking, shiny with sweat. 

“Thank you, Sir.”

“You’re welcome.”


End file.
